


almost-memory

by thethrogmorton



Category: One Piece
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Spoilers for 794
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 21:37:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4977394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thethrogmorton/pseuds/thethrogmorton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A newly-minted, harried Koala finds Sabo in an unexpected place; a short maybe-so fic set in the between years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	almost-memory

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for 794; a maybe-so drabble that exists only because of scattered headcanons that came up from obsessive re-reading of certain chapters and... tumblr. (After all, in 794 we see that Sabo had unconciously reverted to a style of dress quite similar to his pre-memory loss days, and this fic took root from that...)
> 
> It's been a long time since I wrote anything, and this happening to be my first foray into the One Piece universe, I hope that no character is depicted significantly too OOC! All errors are my own.

It had only been a few months since she had joined up with the Revolutionary Army, but Koala was no stranger to calls on her Den-Den Mushi that started off not with the customary greetings or niceties, but rather a breathless and panicked voice shouting variations of the same message, “Sabo’s gone missing!”

 

And here I thought at least _one_ trip would go smoothly, she thought. Balancing the Den-Den Mushi on one hand and her hefty purchases on the other, she slipped into an empty side alley inhabited by nothing other than a flock of startled crows to answer the call. “Last time you saw him?”

 

“A shop selling books! We thought the books would distract him for awhile but barely five minutes later, he was _gone_!”

 

Koala had to stop herself from scolding the dolts who obviously had _no_ idea how to supervise the idiot. As the newest and youngest member of the Revolutionary Army currently, her job scope mainly lay in simple reconnaissance, making sure supplies were in order for missions – and being the designated babysitter of Sabo, who was still a _little_ too young to officially be co-opted into the Army. It was thought to be the unluckiest job in the Army. Sabo certainly encouraged such public sentiment. After all, in her few months of babysitting experience and many escapades (on Sabo’s part) later, she had discovered that the only way to keep him in line was to breathe down his neck _everywhere_ he went. Predictably, he was not happy, but Koala could hardly care less. She wouldn’t have to go to such lengths if only he’d _behave…_

 

“Never mind,” she settled for a reasonably snappish tone instead. “I’ll find him and drag him back to the ship.” She would reserve her tongue-lashing for Sabo himself.

 

Ending the call, she considered her options. Sabo was a big eater. In small towns like this, he also went where the rumours (he considered it part of ‘helping Dragon-san out’, his rationale being that kids were less suspicious than adults when scurrying about since they poked their noses into everything) and the fights (which happened because he was _Sabo_ , mule-headed and foolhardy) were. That should mean that her best chance was in scouring the back alleys close to the markets. Easy-peasy.

 

-

 

An hour of fruitless searching later, she too was on the verge of panicking. Or more likely on the verge of killing Sabo when she laid eyes on him next.

 

“Still no sight of him, Hack?” She practically screeched down into the Den-Den Mushi. She’d caved and asked the older Fishman for help a while ago. The two of them were going to be babysitting pros at this at this rate.

 

“No, not a peep.” He sounded equally strained. Sabo was going to be in _so_ much trouble when they laid their hands on him...

 

“Circle back to the markets,” she said. “I’ll try the outskirts of town just in case. It’s the only place we haven’t looked yet.” Hack grunted his consent and hung up.

 

As she walked, Koala decided that plotting an elaborate revenge would be the best way to let off steam (discounting the fact that she was going to let Sabo have a piece of her mind regardless). It should involve his hat, she mused. He’d gotten the top hat from goodness-knows-where a month ago mumbling that it “looked nice” with a curious look in his eyes, and he’d never gone anywhere without it since…

                                                                                                                            

In the midst of deciding whether gluing cheap paper roses (in the shade of pink he so despised) to his hat, or simply vanishing it into her closet for a day would be more infuriating for Sabo, she nearly didn’t catch the shadow of blue and black as it balanced atop a massive pile of junk a distance away from the street she was at now.

 

_That idiot,_ she fumed. She had absolutely no illusions that it was Sabo, picking his way through the _trash_ of all things. If he fell sick from this escapade, it would certainly serve him right. _She_ wasn’t about to play nursemaid as well!

 

She made it to the tiny junkyard in record time. The evening sun cast an orange, sickly hue over the heap of discarded items; a sense of melancholic abandonment hung thick in the air. Koala shivered. But that train of thought was swiftly discarded as she spotted Sabo, standing in front of a strange mass of bent and broken metal. The edge of a particularly sharp piece had snagged his coat, but he hardly seemed to notice.

 

She was all set to fill her lungs up with enough air to last her through her tirade when she realized that he had been rooted to the spot for some time, unmoving. In his hands was what she could barely make out as a broken piece of metal pipe. The brim of his top hat was pulled down, casting his face in shadow. In the fading hues of the evening light, amidst abandoned relics and discarded memories, he looked like the centerpiece of an elaborate tragedy.

 

Instead, she climbed up the tottering tower of discarded items instead, stopping only when she was a careful distance away from Sabo. Not enough to crowd him, but enough to see tears dripping down his face, so quietly that she hardly realized it until he made a strange hitching sound.

 

“Sabo-kun?”

 

She watched as he slowly registered that she had managed to track him all the way to the _junkyard_ , of all places, and scrubbed furiously at his tear-streaked face.

 

She tried again. “What’s wrong, Sabo-kun?”

 

He raised his chin, almost defiantly, she noted. His voice was a near inaudible whisper when he finally spoke. “Everything about this place… I feel like I’ve been here before. Or rather, a place like this one. Koala,” he pleaded, meeting her gaze with round eyes red-rimmed and swollen and oddly enough, _trusting_ , “sometimes I think that I can… remember.”

 

Tossing the broken piece of the lead pipe aside, Sabo picked his way over to the hulking mass of metallic junk that she was standing beside and plopped down unceremoniously in front of her. More sedately, she let herself sink onto what she supposed was originally a bookshelf and patiently waited for him to continue.

 

“I…” His voice was hoarse. Clearing his throat, he tried again. “Don’t you sometimes feel like this when you wake up? It’s slightly after sunrise, and the air feels crisp and nice, and everyone’s about to eat breakfast, but – there’s something that should be there but it isn’t. Or someone. Or… people.” He shook his head. “I’m not sure anymore. But, well, some days – _especially_ on the best days – you walk around thinking, if I only had this, _everything_ would fall in place. At least, I think so. But…”

 

“But?”

 

Sabo looked away.

 

She worried her lips. This was _Sabo_ of all people. To see him reduced to a sniffling mess was a shock, to say the least. Dragon-san had divulged the bare bones about his memory loss when she was first assigned as his official babysitter a few months ago, but hearing about it was _not_ the same as witnessing how much it affected the normally cheerful boy.

 

“Do you not want to remember?” She asked instead.

 

Absently, he fiddled with the brim of his hat.

 

She had all but given up on him responding and was about to suggest that they head back to the Liberty when Sabo finally replied, haltingly, almost desperately,

 

“Of course I want to. But… I don’t know if I want to remember… _everything_.”

 

Almost in spite of herself, Koala reached over and curled her hand over his trembling fingers. She pretended not to notice Sabo using his free hand to stifle his sobs.

 

She also pretended not to notice, after they finally remembered that there were people waiting for them to return, when Sabo scooped up the broken piece of pipe and stashed it inside his coat before hopping after her in quick strides.

 

(More than anyone else, she knew that there were things you could never truly let go of.)

 

_// fin._

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed and also that this wasn't this too angsty! I actually have other pinpricks of ideas following this, but for now this remains as a self-contained fic. (I also have to add that I think Sabo suffered from a mix of traumatic amnesia and hysterical amnesia - the distinctions are really quite interesting - and I'd probably want to explore more about this if I can.) Comments and reviews are always welcome! :)


End file.
